


nothing to see here, move along, little sister

by sansaswildlinglover



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya is still in denial after five years of Jonsa marriage, F/M, Future Fic, Jon just wants to have morning sex with his wife, but his sister and his kids keep cockblocking him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 15:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaswildlinglover/pseuds/sansaswildlinglover
Summary: Jon has plans when he wakes up next to his beautiful wife, with neither of their children barging into the room and an hour to spare before they have to get up for the day...Those plans are rudely interrupted by his sister.





	nothing to see here, move along, little sister

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riahchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahchan/gifts).



> Your comments in the chat this morning inspired me to write this story, so this one's for you!

Jon didn't open his eyes when he woke up. Instead he nuzzled deeper into the mass of silky, sweet-smelling auburn tickling his face, slipping his arm under Sansa's body to pull her closer to him. 

She was so warm and soft, and she fit so perfectly against him. Even after all these years he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to wake up with her in his bed every morning.

He let his hand trail down her waist, following the curve of her hip, letting his fingers linger on the spot where she was a little ticklish until she stirred. He circled her navel with the middlefinger of his other hand and stroked up her arm to trace her shoulder.

He pushed her curls away from her neck to bare the smooth skin there for his mouth. He peppered her shoulder with little pecks and brushed his nose up the slope of her neck, lazily dragging his lips along its curve.

He opened his mouth, planting a series of sloppier kisses on her exposed neck and flicked his tongue out to taste the sweet salt of her skin. She hummed, tilting her head back, and he swung his free arm over her, covering her hand with his own to lace their fingers together.

"Good morning, husband," she murmured. He loved the sound of her sleepy voice.

"Good morning, wife," he rasped into her ear, lightly grazing the shell with his teeth before nipping at the lobe. 

She sucked in a sharp breath. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, he only released her hand to splay his own over her ribs, slowly moving it up as he sucked on the soft spot behind her ear. He cupped her breast, circling her nipple with his thumb until it puckered under his ministrations.

She moaned and arched into his touch, thrusting her arse back into his hardening manhood. He pushed back, groaning as he snapped his hips. He sucked her earlobe between his lips and muttered: "It's early. Robb and Lya are still asleep."

"Are they?" she asked, slipping her hand under his arm to grab his arse cheek, pulling him into her as she started undulating her hips. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You know very well why, you minx!" he growled, moving his hand up to cup her cheek so he could turn her face toward him and capture her lips in a hungry kiss.

"Hmm, perhaps," she moaned into his mouth as she shifted her hips to give him access.

The door banged open. "Jon!" Arya called out, coming to a halt at the foot of the bed. He was sure he'd locked that door last night, but he clearly should have barred it as well. 

They jumped apart, and Jon twisted to look at her. 

She made a face and Jon could feel his own slipping into a scowl as Sansa slid deeper under the furs.

"Why is Sansa in your bed?" Arya blurted.

Jon clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to cover his face with a hand.

"Arya," he started, taking a deep breath so he wouldn't lose his patience.  _Sansa is my wife. You were there at the wedding. We've been married for five years and four moons, we have two children together,_ a particulary snarky voice in his head snapped.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and repeated: "Arya..."

Sansa's heel kicked his shin under the sheets. He tried not to hiss as he glanced at her, catching her staring at him intently.  _Fine,_ he told her with a raising of eyebrows.

"Sansa had a nightmare," he told his sister.

"Oh, you still have those?" she asked as she hopped onto the bed.

Jon had to grab the covers to prevent them from slipping too low. Arya scrunched her nose as she spied his bare chest and Sansa's naked shoulder, but at least she hadn't had a chance to see anything truly embarassing.

"Yes," Sansa answered, probably to distract her. "Most nights I can only sleep if Jon holds me. Or if Ghost is there, but he's out hunting."

Arya hummed as she pulled out a dagger and started balancing it on her finger. Jon reached for the furs and tentatively started tugging them up again.

"Why are you naked?" she asked suddenly.

"I, errr," he spluttered, torn between avoiding eye contact with Sansa and looking to her for help. "It was..."

“You can tell her,” Sansa said softly. “I was feeling jittery last night, so I really needed a cup of wine before bed. I spilled it over Jon’s tunic.”

Arya arched an eyebrow. "And over your own nightrail?"

"Drinking in bed is a really bad idea," Sansa pointed out. The women stared at each other, Sansa trying her best to appear innocent with the blush caused by his earlier attentions still on her face, until Arya shook her head. 

"Anyway," she said, pocketing her dagger. "Are you ready for me to kick your arse in the training yard again?"

Jon flopped back onto his pillow and groaned.  _No, I'm not. I was almost inside my wife when you rudely interrupted us, and surprisingly I'm still half-hard._

"It's too early," he objected.

"You're getting lazy," she scolded him. "You'll grow old and fat like this, you know?"

Most days, her insult and the implied challenge would be enough to get him out of bed, but today he just wanted her to leave so he could get back to bedding his wife. He loved how eager and pliant she was in the morning, the ease and languidness of it all, when they were already entangled under the furs and there was no need for undressing or no last tasks to finish for the evening.

With two young children they rarely got any chance to engage in such activities after waking up. He'd thought he was finally getting a chance to do so, and then his sister had barged in. If Arya didn't get out of his bedroom, he might have to strangle her.

"You'll have to find someone else today," he told her, closing his eyes and covering his face with a pillow.

He could picture her siting there, chewing her lip as she contemplated whether it was worth it to taunt him any further, or whether she should go and find another victim.

"Leave us, Arya," Sansa chimed in, nestling deeper under the furs. "I need more sleep," she grumbled, and he could imagine her pout as she said it.

"Fine," Arya announced dramatically.

Jon wanted to sigh in relief, but then he heard tittering, and two pairs of small feet padded across the floor, accompanied by giggles and two shrill cries of "Mama!"

The mattress dipped as Robb and Lya climbed onto the bed and over Sansa to kiss her goodmorning. Jon groaned, wondering what would be the best way to kill his little sister.

"Where's Papa?" Lya asked.  _Not here,_ he thought.  _You should go and find him, in the Godswood, or some other place far away from my bedroom!_

"Sshh," Sansa hushed her. "We're playing a game of hide and seek and Papa doesn't know I'm hiding in here."

"I don't understand why you allow them to call Jon Papa," Arya sighed. 

Sansa didn't get a chance to come up with an explanation as Robb asked: "Can we also play, Mama?"

He knew Sansa would press a kiss to their son's temple now. "Some other time," she told him. "Auntie Arya has just offered to teach you your first swordfighting lesson today!"

Jon was prepared for their excited cries, he just hoped neither of them would jump on top of him and geld him in the process.  _I have such a clever wife,_ he thought proudly.

"You said you wouldn't let me teach them before they were ten!" Arya exclaimed incredulously.

"I changed my mind," she answered simply.

The mattress shuffled as the children lowered themselves back onto the floor and bounced out of the room, discussing who was going to win the fight and who was going to defeat Auntie Arya.

The door closed as Arya followed them out and Jon emerged from beneath the furs. "Finally," he groaned, pouncing on Sansa. His mouth attacked hers and quickly moved down.

"We should really tell her our marriage is not purely political," he said before closing his mouth over her left nipple, her hands roaming over his back and arse. 

She keened and arched into his mouth. "We have," she pointed out. "Several times."

"I know," he sighed, circling her navel with his tongue. He splayed his palms on her thighs and pushed her legs apart, lowering himself onto his stomach. "I really thought denying the truth was your thing," he mumbled.

She gave him a glare for that comment, but right now that only made more blood flow to his groin. He kissed the inside of her thigh.

"I wanted to have you more than once this morning," he rumbled into her soft flesh, grinning at the eager cant of her hips responding to his closeness. "But I'm just going to feast on your cunt until you peak, and after that you're going to ride me."

He licked up her slit, revelling in the taste of her exploding on his tongue and the whimper that escaped from her lips. Her hands flew into his hair.

He lifted his head and added: "And after our midday meeting, you're going to come to my solar, and I'm going to bend you over my desk. Don't bother wearing smallclothes, is that clear?"

She licked her lips, gazing at him with hooded eyes. "Very clear, Your Grace."

 


End file.
